


You'll Feel Better in The Morning

by intergalxtic



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Angst, Delia gets sick, F/M, Flu, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Sickness, adams not really in this one sorry, neither is bj eek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:47:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23787325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intergalxtic/pseuds/intergalxtic
Summary: Charles is lucky. He rarely gets phone calls from home saying things have been broken or people are in hospital. So when Charles is packing up his work things, and he receives a phone call, he isn’t worried. But instead of a bright peppy voice, it’s somber and serious.“Barbara? Is everything okay?”“No. Lydia’s calling an ambulance for Delia..."
Relationships: Charles Deetz & Delia Deetz, Delia Deetz & Barbara Maitland, Delia Deetz & Lydia Deetz
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	You'll Feel Better in The Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! Something quick - I am australian so don't mind the spelling of some words :)  
> TW - mentions of cancer right at the end but nothing to serious.

Delia always rises early. It is no surprise, given her whole “One with the universe” deal. She has a strict morning routine. Wakeup at sunrise, meditate, fifteen minutes of yoga, shower, face washing, get dressed, choose crystal, do hair, makeup, have a glass of water, have two pieces of buttered toast, clean teeth, ready for the day. Every single morning without fail. Well, maybe except for today.

Delia’s eyes flutter open slowly. She might have had a good night's sleep, but her body still aches with fatigue. She forces herself to sit up, a wave of dizziness washing over her.  _ This is a new feeling… _

Delia glances at the clock, expecting something along the lines of six o’clock. But what she saw was nine thirty-five.  _ Shit!  _ Delia jumps out of bed, and bolts down the stairs, regretting it once she got down there. She grasps onto the ledge of the stairs to keep herself upright as she catches her breath, catching Barbara’s attention. 

Barbara’s head whips around from the newspaper she was reading, and gasps. Delia looked like she had seen a ghost. Maybe a scarier one than Barbara.

“Delia? Are you alright?” Barbara gently closes the newspaper, and floats over to Delia. 

“Ye-yeah…” Delia coughs, then stands up straight. “Where is Charles? And Lydia?”

“They’re at school and work…” Barbara says slowly, seeing the worried look on her face.

“Work… I have to go to work…” Delia slurs, rocking slightly. Delia works as an assistant teacher at the local elementary school, whilst taking an online psychology course. Recently one of the other assistants has been away, meaning that Delia has to pick up more work, and work with more students. On top of this, it’s exam season soon, meaning that Delia has been studying like crazy, barely leaving any time for properly taking care of her body.

“Nope, you are not going to work today.” Barbara decides, looping herself under Delia’s arm and leading back up the stairs. “You are sick.”   
  


“What? No! I don’t get sick…” Delia tries to fight off Barbara, but the illness has taken over her quickly, and she has no strength. Barbara places Delia on her bed, forcing her to lay down. She takes one of the not very many jumpers that Delia has in her from her draws, and puts it on her. Delia shivers, and sinks into the pile of blankets on her bed. 

“I’m gonna go get you an ibuprofen-” Barbara starts, but gets cut off.

“No! I’m allergic,” Delia explains. “I don’t need it anyway. I’ll be fine if I sleep. Can you pass me my laptop, though?”

Delia half-assedly points at the dresser, where her computer sat. Barbara sighs loudly, but still gives Delia the computer. 

“I’ll come check on you every so often, okay?” Barbara smiles softly, turns out the light and closes the door.

Delia is sick. There is no denying that now. But she has important tests coming up, and does NOT want to fail them. So instead of doing the right thing and sleeping, she pulls up her computer and starts studying. Staring at the screen made her nauseous, but Delia doesn’t care. Or maybe she’s pretending not to. 

Endless amounts of information at her fingertips, but it all just swirled in and out of her head. Her eyes fixed on nothing in particular, her mind wanders slightly. Thoughts all lead into each other, some making her smile, some making her feel worse than before. 

At some point Delia starts thinking about her mother and father. It’s been how long since she’s seen them? It’s been years since she’s talked to them. Do they know she’s still alive? Or a better question, do they care if she’s still alive? Maybe she should reach out to them… nope.  _ It must be the fever setting in if I feel the need to talk to them.  _

Delia yawns quietly, not knowing how long it’s been. Before she knows it, Barbara has burst through the door. Barbara’s face falls, and Delia feels a twang of guilt at her heart. The computer screen still rests on Delia’s blanket covered legs, glowing in Delia’s face. 

“Delia, you need sleep!” Barbara says, and at some point Delia blinks and Barbara is right next to her, closing her laptop. She touches the back of her hand to Delia’s forehead. “Your temperature is really high. If it gets any higher I’ll get Charles to call a doctor.” 

It’s Delia’s turn for her face to fall. Even the thought of seeing a doctor sent shivers down her spine, and it isn’t just the illness. “No, thanks.” 

“Then rest! You’ve been so stressed lately, that’s why you’re sick. Just take a break, okay?” Barbara scrunches up her face in concern. “I’m sure you’ll feel good as new tomorrow.”

She did not. 

In fact, she felt worse. 

Charles called her in sick, and Barbara checked her temperature, which hadn’t risen, just stayed the same. Wrapping a blanket around her head and body, she sluggishly made her way down stairs. Being upright still made her dizzy, so she couldn’t wait to collapse onto the couch and watch some TV. 

Delia spent the entire day falling in and out of sleep, complaining to Barbara about her aches and sore throat, and watching whatever soap opera was on TV at the moment she was awake. She wants to do some sneaky meditation, but not with Barbara coming in every five minutes to check on her.

That’s how she thought she would spend the day after too. Except maybe feeling better enough to catch up on schoolwork. But no. Getting better didn’t seem like an option for her overworked body.

Delia is slightly delirious at this point. Despite all her efforts, Delia can’t get out of bed. A million bricks sit on her chest, and her head spins even when she is laying down. Her entire body shakes, keeping her awake, but she manages to fall back asleep again. And that’s how she stays until she can hear sirens coming from outside. 

Lydia comes home from school, throwing her heavy bag to the floor. God, she was happy to be home. Only the house was eerily quiet.  _ That’s odd.  _ Oh well. Even though it is Friday, Lydia has a question for Delia about some homework she has. She calls out her name, hoping for an indication of where she is, but she gets no response. And that made Lydia uneasy. 

She flies upstairs and into Charles and Delia’s shared room.  _ Ah, she’s still sick, that’s all.  _ Lydia tries to make herself feel better, but as she approaches the almost unmoving Delia, she’s not so sure. Delia’s chest rises and falls raggedly, wheezing every breath. 

“Delia? Is everything okay?” Lydia says as she steps closer yet again, and pulls down the blankets slightly. 

Lydia jumps back in shock. Delia lay there, shivering and pale, drenched in sweat nonetheless. A picture of her mum flashes in front of her eyes momentarily. Lydia is hit with her own wave of lightheadedness, not stemming from illness, but from anxiety. 

“Barbara!” Lydia cries, and in about point two seconds flat, she’s inside the room. 

“What’s the matter?” Barbara pushes a stray hair out of Lydia’s face. Lydia can’t say anything, though. All she can do is point to Delia. “Oh god, I don’t check on her for a few hours…”

Lydia watches Barbara take Delia’s temperature, observing the change of emotion in her. Barbara bites her lip.

“Call an ambulance, she feels like she’s on fire. I’ll call Charles and let him know to meet you at the hospital.” Barbara explains, as Lydia gets out her phone and dials 911 at the speed of light. 

“911 what’s your emergency?” the dispatch says robotically. 

“I-uhh…” Lydia chokes on her words. “My… My stepmother Delia is really sick.”

“How sick? What is wrong with her?” The dispatch questions, and Lydia starts pacing.

“She’s got a really high fever, chills and she’s sweating like crazy. If I wake her up and stand her up I think she would faint.” Lydia’s voice wobbles like jelly, images of her mother beginning to pop up again. “Please help her. We live at 13 Cherry Drive in Winter River. It’s the house on the hill.”

“An ambulance is on the way.” The dispatch says. “You may hang up or stay on the line.”

“How long will the ambulance be?” Lydia asks faintly, just loud enough for the dispatch to hear.

“It will be five to ten minutes.” The dispatch says, then Lydia promptly hangs up. She sighs loudly. This will be a long five minutes. Soon enough, sirens are heard in the distance, coming closer each second. Lydia can barely breathe. Not only did she see Delia as (some kind of) motherly figure, but she couldn’t lose another family member, not after what happened last time. Barbara floats into the room, and notices the expression on Lydia’s face.

“Hey, it’ll be okay. Delia will be fine.” She whispers, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I told Charles you will text him when you leave the house.”

“Okay.” Lydia whispers back, eyeballing the paramedics. 

As they pull out of the driveway, Lydia texts Charles. He doesn’t reply, he just leaves her on read.  _ Typical Dad.  _ She thinks, as they drive away to the hospital...

Charles is lucky. He rarely gets phone calls from home saying things have been broken or people are in hospital. He only gets phone calls from an excited Lydia saying how she “aced” the test she had, Barbara updating on Beetlejuice’s whereabouts, or Delia every so often. 

So when Charles is packing up his work things, and he receives a phone call, he isn’t worried. But instead of a bright peppy voice, it’s somber and serious.

“Barbara? Is everything okay?”

“No. Lydia’s calling an ambulance for Delia. She’s so sick, she needs the hospital.” Barbara hurriedly explains. Charles feels his heart stop, and the colour drains from his face. “Lydia’s going with her in the ambulance, she’ll text you when they’re on the way.”

“Thank you.” Charles’ emotions start shutting down, the same reaction he had with Emily. He tries to stop, but the guard keeps rising. He continues packing up his work, tidying the papers and shutting his laptop slowly, anxiously awaiting the text. 

He tips everything into his bag, not caring if it’s crumpled, his eyes blurry with tears.  _ No! Stay strong for Delia, and for Lydia.  _ His phone pings and he opens it, but he has no words. He just drives. 

While he drives, his mind decides to take a stroll down memory lane. He remembers how hopeful he had been when Emily was first diagnosed. Her and Delia have the same symptoms.  _ Damn!  _ He should’ve made Delia go to the doctor the minute she felt sick, but she straight-up refused.

He remembers the sleepless nights, awaiting test results, vomiting and restlessness. Would he be able to do it again?  _ Stop it! Delia is fine! She will be fine!  _ He tries to convince himself, but he can’t help but jump to conclusions. 

As he pulls into the parking spot, he collects himself, and walks towards the hospital.

“My wife Delia Deetz was brought in by an ambulance. I would like to see her.” He deadpans, slightly startling the receptionist.

“Of course. She’s in room five, on the right.” The receptionist smiles nervously, pointing into the ED. He bolts as fast as his legs can take him to her room, breathing a sigh of relief when he sees her, half asleep on the bed.

“Dad?” Lydia says quietly. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”

Charles can’t answer, because if he did, he would burst into tears. They are engulfed in silence, until the doctor opens the curtain into the room, grabbing Delia’s attention.

“Hi, I’m Dr Lopez, I’ll be treating Ms Deetz.” Dr Lopez says, flicking a stray piece of hair out of her face. “I’ll start with the basic questions, what brings you in today?”

Delia uses the little strength she has left to push herself into a semi-upright position. It is strange to see such an energetic person so powerless. “I got sick. I don’t know why I am here, honestly.” She croaks, but Lydia butts in.

“You were passed out on your bed!” Lydia exclaims, unable to hold back. Dr Lopez bites her lip, pulling an ipad out of her coat pocket.

“Uh… next question. What symptoms were you having?” She asks, tapping on the ipad screen.

“Fatigue, sore throat, nausea, normal cold stuff. Can we leave?” Delia says bitterly, becoming extremely uncomfortable. 

“How about dizziness, chest pain and difficulty breathing, fever, cold sweats-”

“Yes.” Charles and Lydia say together and Delia rolls her eyes, trying to mask a cough. Charles continues with, “She hasn’t been able to keep anything down aside from a few sips of water every now and then.”

“I believe you have a bad case of the flu. If my suspicions are right, it is in your best interest that we admit her overnight, and possibly a few days, depending on your reaction to the medication.” Dr Lopez clarifies, and Delia’s eyes widen. “We are going to perform a complete blood count and give you IV fluids for now.”

“Thanks...” Delia looks away from everyone, and slumps back on the bed, too tired to put up a fight. The beeping monitors were driving her crazy.

“Dr Lopez can I speak to you outside for a moment?” Charles asks, gesturing outside of the room. His mind swam with questions, all of which stem from fear.

“Sure thing.” Dr Lopez nods with a small smile, stepping out of the room, followed by Charles. The glass door that stands in front of the curtain slides shut. “What is it?”

“It’s not normal to be this sick from the flu, right?” Charles queries, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“It is not. Delia is very healthy despite any previous complications, so I would consider this slightly unusual, but nothing to worry about.” Dr Lopez raises one eyebrow.

“It’s just… My last wife had the same symptoms and by the time doctors caught the cancer it was too late.”

“I’m very sorry about that. However these symptoms came on very quickly and-”

“Can you just do a test? Make sure?” Charles pleads. Dr Lopez seems unsure, but agrees anyway.

Charles tiptoes back into the room, trying not to startle Delia. He sits on the chair next to her, pressing a light kiss to her head. A small smile breaks onto her face, but it doesn’t last long. She rotates around to face Charles, trying to find the right words.

Delia might be positive and sometimes a little over the top energetic, but she isn’t dumb. She knows exactly what Charles asked. Frankly, she’s slightly mad about him jumping to that kind of conclusion, but she can’t stay frustrated for long, because she understands why he’s like this. 

“I know you are worried about me, but you don’t have to.” Delia chuckles when she sees Charles about to argue with her. “I know it’s because… because of Emily, but I promise that this isn’t serious. I’m not going anywhere.”

Charles can barely take it. His heart aches at the possibility of a loved one's death, but Delia’s reassurance gives him hope. But after all, it’s just the flu.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!!


End file.
